


The Other End Of Okay

by Spite_And_Puns



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roman Is Appreciated, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Caring Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Crying, idk how to write but I gave it a whirl, roman stans come get y’all’s juice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 02:34:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29110908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spite_And_Puns/pseuds/Spite_And_Puns
Summary: Essentially a big ol’ vat of Roman angst with a slice of caring Logan because it’s what we deserve <3
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, kind of - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 51





	The Other End Of Okay

As far as Roman could tell, everything in the Mindscape was fine. Perfect, actually. Virgil had stopped slinking around the hallways with his shoulders hunched over like he was always preparing for a fight. Logan had started to come out of his room more and didn’t limit the time he spent with the others to brainstorms and planning sessions. Patton was… Patton was happier. He smiles were softer than they were before, but they always reached his eyes now. For once there were no world-shattering conflicts between any of the Sides, and everyone seemed to be breathing easier. 

And Roman? Roman was fine, too, of course. Perfect. Just peachy.

(Except in all the ways he wasn’t.)

He was fine, except he never sunk into the common area anymore. He had to walk down the stairs because he needed to pause at the top of the landing and listen to the voices that were down there already so that he could ensure his presence was _just right_ for the combination of Sides he would have to interact with. (He never got it _just right_ anymore, but that didn’t stop him from trying.)

He was fine, except once in a brainstorming session Logan admitted that his ideas were, “Well-researched and offered a substantial first draft for Thomas’ next video,” and Roman wandered around the Mindscape for the rest of the day wondering what he had done to offend Logan so much the Side had resorted to mockery. (The conclusion he reached, at about 2am, was what _hadn’t_ he done?)

He was fine, except in his room he had a sleek vanity mirror that looked unmarked and beautiful. Remus had been annoying him in his room a few weeks ago and the sight of the vanity had halted his tirade about the mating habits of spiders. He had pouted, and rubbed the edges of the wood where old slime stains and mace cuts had once marred the oak.

“Your desk is all boring.”

Roman didn’t know how to explain the rapid heartbeat he felt in his throat and the images of a dark room, shattered glass and bleeding knuckles that flashed through his mind. (At least for once he had cleaned up his own mess, right?)

So, that settled it. Roman was great. Everyone was great. Why wouldn’t they be? If something was wrong with Roman, they would know. After all, they had all those de-stress and breathing techniques for Virgil, and everyone knew what baked treats meant Patton was trying to push away his negative feelings instead of experiencing them. They had mandatory Social and Relaxation times to make sure Logan didn’t lose himself in productivity, and always gently teased Janus- _Janus_! - away from gloom when he started to question his place in the Mindscape. There was something they did for Roman, too, surely. It was just so subtle that he didn’t notice it. Or perhaps nothing was wrong with him. If something was wrong, they would have helped him. They would have acknowledged it. 

They hadn’t, so he must be fine.

Or they didn’t care.

Roman wrenched himself away from his thoughts. Focus. He had job to do, and he’d be damned if he failed _again_. He turned his gaze down to the blank paper that lay on the oak desk in front of him. (Turns out, after he covered the mirror with a blanket it became very easy to switch out the word “vanity” for “desk.”) Coming up with ideas should be easy at this point, but somehow the sheer whiteness of the paper always left him stuck. He made a small, aimless mark in the corner with his pencil.  
“There, not so intimidating now! Brave Prince Roman, felling yet another daunting enemy.” He meant to speak with the bravado that would fill him with confidence, but instead a kind of bitterness infected his throat.

_Enemies like Janus, right? Like Virgil? Like his own brother? Some brave Prince, indeed._

His grip on the pencil tightened. He drew another line over the first mark, making it darker as if he could draw over his own thoughts. 

This was supposed to be the fun part of his job. Before all the cost-benefit analysis and editing and shoehorning in realism. He loved coming up with ideas, right? Why wasn’t he having fun?

_Have fun, Roman. Enjoy yourself. Smile._

A tightness worked it’s way to his face, and he found himself blinking rapidly to clear the blurriness that accompanied it. He was smiling! He was having fun! He was Creativity! He was fine! Fine, fine, fine! As he blinked away his gaze caught on the fraying edge of the velvet blanket that covered his mirror. The sudden visage of how he knew he must look startled him. A pathetic, _stupid_ prince hunched over a blank piece of paper and trying to pretend a crumpled face was a smile. He had no audience, and he was still a terrible actor. He had no audience, and he was _still_ failing. Abruptly, the Side stood up and stumbled away from the vanity and the taunting blank page. He paused at the door leading from his bedroom to the hallway. It was the middle of the night, so hopefully he wouldn’t bump into any of the sides and have to explain himself. But… but he was supposed to have ideas by now. He remembered clearly at dinner they way he had pushed out his chair and struck his pose, announcing,

“Farewell, citizens! I am simply brimming with the golden honey of potential ideas, and shall no doubt grace your plates with the fruits of my work tomorrow morning!” 

God, he was an idiot. He had made a vow and here he was, ready to quit because he was scared of a stupid piece of paper and what kind of Gryffindor would he be if he just left and only a total coward would just abandon his work and - and he was opening the door and slipping out into the dim hallway.

Immediately, the voices in his mind quietened. Something about the stifling silence of the rest of the Mindscape acted like a cool wash of water over his mind, bringing it back to the present. Water. He wanted water. The lights under the other Side’s doors were all out, so he breathed out a sigh of relief and crept down the staircase (pausing at the landing by habit). Roman peered through the darkness at the gloomy shapes that made up the kitchen, and felt his way to the cupboard where they kept the glasses. He had been up later than this enough times to be able to navigate the dark pretty well.

“What do you think you’re doing?” An accusatory whisper cut through the night, and Roman jumped in response, fumbling the cup in his hand.

“Logan?” He asked (read: squeaked) like a teenager caught sneaking out of the house. It was rare to see Logan up after 10pm, let alone after 12.

“Obviously.” If there was any doubt to his identity, the haughty tone could only belong to one Logan Sanders. “What are you doing up?”

A dim lamp in the hallway turned on, and Roman blinked a few times to adjust to the sudden solidness to the shapes around him, as blurry grey masses solidified into chairs and picture frames. Logan, still dressed in his (now rumpled) clothes from the day and with the clear sharp imprint of a pillow crease on his cheek stood in the threshold of the kitchen. Roman glanced at the couch behind Logan, which still had the blankets that had no doubt been supplied by Patton to help the Logical Side sleep comfortably.

“I didn’t know you were down here,” Roman said dumbly, eyes fixated on the crooked tie and messy hair.

“I…apparently fell asleep, just after dinner, while reading my book.” He looked vaguely embarrassed as he adjusted his glasses, shifting as if to direct attention away from the couch.

“Mustn’t be a good book.”

“On the contrary, I find it to be quite thrilling. So much so that I neglected to move my position to my bedroom upstairs. Although this will surely disrupt my circadian rhythm, leading to temporary lapses in productivity, I can assure you-”

“Relax, Specs,” Roman interrupted with an eye roll, “You know who you’re talking to, right? There’s nothing shameful about getting caught up in a good story.”

Logan adjusted his glasses. “Right. Thank you.”

There was a pause, as Roman turned to fill up his glass from the tap. When he was a kid, Thomas had once gotten a small second-degree burn from touching a stove. It wasn’t anything serious, but Roman remembered how badly Thomas had itched as a layer of skin grew back on the burn area. He had the same feeling now, as his flesh felt too tight across his bones and he had the urge to do something- shout, or throw up, or anything -to alleviate the growing tightness if the coil in his stomach. He was planning on being alone.

“Roman, you haven’t answered my question.” He could feel the intensity of Logan’s gaze on his back, and Roman swallowed. He was fine. He was normal. There was no need to feel anxious.

“Which?”

“Why are you up?” There was a certain frustration in Logan’s voice. Roman winced in sympathy. He knew how much the other side hated feeling left in the dark. In lieu of answer, he turned back around and rested his elbows against the counter, before waving his glass in the air and taking a sip.

“Thirsty.” He punctuated it with a satisfied snack of his lips. The furrow between Logan’s brows deepened. There were a few tense moments of silence, before both Sides spoke up simultaneously.

“Well, I better get going back up-”

“You never play music anymore.”

Roman’s sentence died on his tongue and Logan scanned his face. He tried to remember if the purple half-moons under his eyes were covered by his Shifting or not. Logan seemed to take his silence as some kind of challenge, or confusion, because he quickly spoke up again;

“I - we used to always hear you singing in your room. And if not singing, then at least blaring Disney or testing out a new instrument. You’ve… you’ve been quiet for months, Roman.” 

Logan stared at Roman with something akin to desperation in his eyes and Roman tasted ash. He felt like one of the pinned butterflies they put in museum exhibits, except he had been fixed inside out and at the wrong angles and he was going to scream-

“I merely haven’t been feeling particularly musical, lately.” His voice sounded wobbly, even to himself.

“It’s not just that. At dinner, you are consistently the first Side to leave. And I’ve noticed- or- well, you barely touch your food.” His words came in a rush now, and a flush had started to rise in his ears. “I thought perhaps you were never hungry at dinner, but you don’t come down during the day for snacks. I’ve heard you tell Patton that you’ve eaten a large breakfast but I never see it. Patton hugs you and you look as if… as if someone is about to announce some terrible news.” Logan had circled around the kitchen island and was marching closer to Roman.

“That’s just-”

“In movie nights you separate yourself from us and you’re more jittery than ever. You don’t take visits from Virgil because you claim to be busy. You don’t knock on my door with new spur-of-the-moment scripts you want me to read.”

“Logan-”

“ _I miss you_.”

Roman fell silent, his mind spinning as the words careened around his head. Logan’s flush had spread up his neck, too, and the sudden silence in the kitchen made them both aware of how his voice had risen.

“Logan…” Roman let his flat voice trail off as he tried to make sense of the words. Logan didn’t… hate him? It didn’t seem like it, based on what he had just said. But Roman knew he hated him. He had to. It made sense. Roman was inefficient, and pathetic, and annoying, and-

“Roman.” Now that he was this close, Roman could see Logan’s sagging shoulders and the worry in his eyes. “You are my friend. Your well-being is… invaluable to me. And I don’t think you’re okay. Please, allow me to help.”

_I don’t think you’re okay._

_If something was wrong, they would have acknowledged it._

_I don’t think you’re okay._

An abrupt sob tore itself from his throat and Roman felt himself crumple. Still, he wrapped his arms around himself as if he could keep all the broken pieces from tumbling out and shook his head wildly. What he was denying, he didn’t know.

“Roman.” Logan’s voice, softer than he had known Logic could be, tethered him to the kitchen.

“I’m not- I _can’t_ \- I’m- ” the garbled pleas forced themselves from his throat between his rapid breaths. He squeezed tighter around his middle, and swore he could feel the jagged edges of broken glass cutting him.

“Please breathe for me, Roman. I am here. You will be okay. If it would alleviate your distress, you may hold onto me.”

Slowly, one of Roman’s hands curled away from his torso and tugged on Logan’s crinkled dress-shirt. Immediately, he felt warm, if slightly awkward and stiff, arms encircle him. Roman let out a shuddering sigh, and for the first time let his posture drop as he buried his silent wracking sobs in Logan’s chest.

“I’m- I’m not fine,” Roman whispered through hitching breaths. The hand which had been spelt rubbing circles into his back paused briefly, and he heard Logan swallow.

“I know. You’re being brave, Roman. Let me help you. Let us help you. They- We care for you deeply. Let the others- let Patton and Virgil and- and Remus help you.”

“And Janus?” Roman murmured into the shirt. Logan hesitated.

“If you want him to.”

“Mm. Thank you, Logan.”

He wasn’t okay. The weight of the words settled into his chest, yet somehow Roman was able to breathe more freely than he had in months. He wasn’t okay.  
  
But he certainly wasn’t alone.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! This is my first time writing a fic so I’d love any feedback you have the time to give :)


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